Biographical sketches with philosophical concepts

Footfalls on Time

Author: Sivanandini Duraiswamy

Vijitha Yapa Publication

Review: Justice C. V. Wigneswaran, Retired Judge of the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka

BIOGRAPHY: 'Minstrel saintess Auvaiyar was asked by Muruga, the Warrior God of the Tamils, as to what was the greatest in this world. She replied in chaste Tamil 'Peridhu peridh puvanam peridhu" which rendered into English runs thus -

"Great indeed this vast wide world,

Yet it lies light on the head of serpent bold,

(Goddess) Uma wears on little finger serpent akin ring, gold,

Goddess herself an adjunct in Lord Shiva's hold,

Shiva resides in hearts of devotees of divine mould,

Greatness of devotees in fact is too great to be told."

Mrs. Sivanandini Duraiswamy has ventured to describe the biographies of 18 personifications of greatness - ancient, medieval and modern, Indian and Sri Lankan from the Hindu fold, in her latest publication "Footfalls on Time".

Starting with ancient Thirumoolar and followed by Karaikkal Arnmaiyar she describes in Part I the lives of the three more famous Nayanmars (Appar, Sundarar and Sambandar) and then Maniccavasagar.

Also Serkkilar who wrote inter alia their biographies in the Periya Puranam, the more recent Pattinaththar and Thayumanavar and the Sri Lankan sages of yester - century Yogaswami and Swami Vipulananthar find a place.

Part II of her book examines the lives of the young and brilliant Adhi Shankarar followed by God intoxicated Mirabhai, musical maestro Tyagarajar, Holy Mother Sarada Devi, Swami Vivekananda, Rabindranath Tagore and Swami Chinmayananda.

Catalyst

The catalyst that inspired her to undertake such a task seems to be some young pilgrims from the West, thirsty for knowledge about the mysticism of the Indian ethos, whom she met in Madurai in South India years ago in the company of her late husband Mr. Yogendra Duraiswamy.

The core of mysticism is the quest for communion with the sacred. Hinduism from time immemorial had recommended different paths in order to unfold the mysteries of life and to imbibe the Sacred. The ancient saints and sages were tremendously interested in the art of living.

They probed into their relationships with innumerable expressions of life surrounding them, they watched carefully the inner drama taking place in themselves both on the biological as well as the psychological levels, in the waking state, dream state and deep sleep state.

They came up with paths broadly probing into life at an intellectual level (Gnana), physical level (Karma), emotional level (Bhakti) and spiritual level (Dhyana). These paths took their votaries away from mere mundane enjoyment of life to probe further into the recesses of their beings to face up with something which exceeded themselves.

The saints and sages mentioned in "Footfalls on Time" could be classified as having belonged to these different paths or margas. While Adhi Shankarar is reputed to have been a Gnana Yogi (man of wisdom) his life had glimpses of a Karma Yogi as well as Bhakthi Yogi illustrating the fact that these paths can overlap.

Page 163 of "Footfalls on Time" refers to the famous Bhaja Govindam composition which exhorted a student of religion not to waste his time on the rules of grammar but to seek Govinda (the Lord) with his heart. Shankarar realised that heart was the doorway to heavenly bliss.

Devotion

Many saints and sages mentioned in the book including the Nayanmars and Mirabhai were great Bhakthas or devotees of the Divine singing their hymns with great devotion, deriving emotional fulfilment and in the process a glimpse of the Divine.

Holy Mother, after the passing away of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa considered duty and dhyana as her foremost mission in life. She followed the Karma marga but with little fanfare. Swami Vivekananda did his duties as a man of dynamism and action.

Swami Chinmayananda spent his life transforming himself into a conduit pipe to propagate the ancient Vedic wisdom to the common man. He followed the path of wisdom and dhyana.

Ignorance

Yet bhakthi remains the most captivating path that enthralls the modern man. In a world which is mesmerised by scientific outputs, where knowledge, reasons and materialistic attitudes loom large, dipping deep into our hearts gives us a much wanted recreative recess and relaxation.

The ideal marga or path recommended for the modern human being is the path of devotion or bhakti. Leafing through the lives of great bhaktas infects us with their devotion, enthusiasm and enriching experiences.

Sivanandini has therefore selected a majority of great bhaktas as those who left an indelible mark on the sands of history - 'The Footfalls on Time'. Biographies of this nature in English fulfil a crying need among many Hindus and others today who have difficulties with their mother tongues, though keen on knowing about great saints and sages of yore.

It is said that in South Africa, Mauritius and elsewhere, the progeny of Tamil Hindus transliterate the Thevarams in English and sing them reading from the English version due to their ignorance of the Tamil script in which Thevarams were composed and sung.

They are English speaking Hindus who do not have an opportunity nor a necessity to study Tamil but keen on professing their traditional religion.

Hinduism is a well formulated scientifically acceptable deep and profound religion which has developed through the inputs of great saints, sages and savants qualifying to be called Sanatana Dharma - the perennial truth, the youngsters have grown to understand. And this book is precisely what they would need.

Some of the more famous torch bearers of this ancient religion find their biographies described in 'Footfalls on Time'. The book is not merely a biographical sketch. It also discusses philosophical concepts and truths. It would make good reading to those amongst us who are Anglophiles whether Tamils or non Tamils.

The language is romantic, picturesque and imaginative. The style of writing brings nostalgic memories of a by gone age appropriate no doubt to the personalities whose lives are examined. The book would no doubt be popular among discerning connoisseurs of mystical literature.

A book I'm going to keep

A Bedlam of Persuasions

Author: Carl Muller

Vijitha Yapa Publishers, Colombo

Review: Michael Demmer

POETRY: Carl Muller turns nasty whenever he feels like it. There's something about the way he writes that can be bewildering: as if all his moods seem to be on a keyboard and he plays the keys in any way that suits him.

Under it all, I think there is a deep dissatisfaction, outrage perhaps, and ideas that are mind-boggling. He keeps churning out his poems, quite oblivious to what others think.

There is challenge, irreverence, cynicism and mockery, and yet, he soft-pedals whenever he feels like it and there are gentler lines that seem to say: "Hey, this is also me. Take your pick."

This collection of his poems, "A Bedlam of Persuasions" keeps taking us into his many-splintered mind. Every poem dances across the pages and compels us to take a closer look at ourselves. Did we come out of monkeyhood to manhood and set our sights on godhood?

And what were our options? Read this poem carefully. It can make you dizzy, true, but it is so typical of Muller to simply allow his mind to gallop along, quite unconcerned about reactions, evolving as he goes. ("And Now We Want to be Gods")

Unlike other reviews I so often read, I don't want to pad this piece with Muller's lines. The man himself is an able reviewer and critic, and he leaves much of his criticisms to his own writing.

Suddenly, you feel tongue-lashes that make you reel. But I see under it all, a dreamer. I try to imagine what he must have been in his own boyhood.

He seems to have packed all his dreams into neat parcels and carried them into adult life, because they are suddenly torn open and we have poems such as "Anuradhapura Days" and other beautiful offerings such as the truth of Santa Claus (You'd Better Not Cry, I'm Telling You Why") and "Reading Session".

Range

Another problem one is left to grapple with is the range of his writing. Nothing is spared. I first came to realise this in his short stories ("Birdsong & Other Tales") and in his scathing essays, "Firing at Random."

Then he took on cult and creed in "Propitiations" - from grotto to high altar - with a breathtaking, almost cosmic approach. Unsparing, yet caring. There has to be a god somewhere he bows to, but it is hard to imagine Muller bowing to anyone, man or god.

In this collection, his poem "After Reading Ylysses" is every bit as academic as the best academic approach to James Joyce, and yet, there is an airy mood that makes it so enjoyable. What is so distinct is that he also likes to laugh at himself, even put himself down and say, "Hey! I'm no poet - Anne Ranasinghe is! and then uphold her as one he admires. ("Line Wrestling")

One wonders at the irreverence. "Deiyyo Saki" is another Book of Genesis with the durian as the forbidden fruit. It leaves one in helpless laughter.

Frivolous

As a collection, "A Bedlam of Persuasions" is slim, but the range and quality make up for all. Just as well, I thought, for Muller must be sipped. Small doses are best. Also, I suppose I can fault him all the time.

There is monumental disrespect, for one thing, but the reader will notice that he does not sit in some high chair and bid us take note of what he says. Oh no. He is one with us. There is an easy conversational style that finds its way in his writing, combined with an unerring grasp of subject that betrays his love of learning and, of course, reading.

At a recent SAARC Writers' and Scholars' conference at the University of Peradeniya, he was asked about his bane, "Do I call you Mooler or Muller?" He grinned. "Muller will do. In school they called me Kehel Muller."

He may be old, but he does seem to be a kind of old Peter Pan, much admired by the undergraduates in the university's English Department, frivolous, serious, brilliant and more than ribald; and somehow, he is in place, whatever the occasion. The same is true of his writing, and it is here that he plays his keyboard of moods and emotions so extraordinarily well.

In this collection of poems, he is so true to himself that he leaves us all like fish out of water. What possesses him to write the way he does? It is useless to look for rhythm, for metre, for anything that makes for "accepted forms".

Rebels have nothing to do with such, and Muller is a rebel born. Who ever thought he would even try to write poems? But he has, and it seems to appeal to him. God knows why, and if I were to ask him, I may get the same answer.

"A Bedlam of Persuasions" is the product of a writer we have to keep grappling with - and there are such human situations too: like the ladies discussing the clothes they wear ("Clothes Maketh the Woman"); the big city with its poutings and preenings ("No Sense City"); the judgemental lines in "Sick People, Sick Societies"; the money-making culture of advertising ("Becoming What We See and Hear"); the golden oldies ("The Day After Tomorrow") our culture ("Culture Spread") and our musical choirs ("Open and Shut").

I suppose I must let me give you a few lines from his introduction, "Poet, non-poet - What am I?"

"Am I just another person speaking to people? I must surely have a lively sensibility; loads of enthusiasm; lots of tenderness; a greater knowledge of human nature.

In fact, a more comprehensive soul. I may also be required to have my own passions and volitions and enjoy the spirit of life. I must have the power to express what I think and feel. Well, I've checked my "report card" and you know what? I've failed miserably."

This is one book I'm going to keep!

Stories with a spontaneous freshness

The Seeing Eye

(a collection of short stories)

Author: Ransiri Menike Silva

Published by Kandy Books

Price Rs. 350, Available at all leading bookshops

Review: Chitra Ranawaka

FICTION: I was very happy when Ransiri asked me to write a review of her book "The Seeing Eye."

It is a collection of 24 short stories on a wide variety of topics.

It is aptly named "The Seeing Eye" for the book shows deep insight into the many circumstances that affect our lives.

The book has a spontaneous freshness that is created by art and hard work, to produce this extempore effort. It is deeply introspective, lively, spiced with imagination and from time to time enhanced by humour and wit.

Her style is realistic, prompting me to ask if the stories were based on her own experiences.

She accepted my compliment with a smile and said that only one was based on a real incident. I leave you to guess which one it was, though I will let you know after you have gone through the entire book.

Ransiri rings the changes by sometimes making the narrator female and at other times male; young or old, so that you wonder what is going to happen next.

There are unpredictable twists in the plot enhanced by sarcasm and irony.

Dialogue

The dialogue is inspired, capturing effectively the cadences and rhythm of normal speech whether it is the chattiness of young children or the more serious inflections of older people, philosophising or considering matters of far reaching moment as in "The Decision".

Whatever it is, it is unfailingly interesting, making compulsive and committed reading, always holding your attention.

They appeal on various levels. My own favourite is "The Barber Shop", so it is gratifying to note that it won first prize in the all-island short story competition of the EASL in 1990.

It is full of intimate details about the little girl watching herself and the many images reflected in the triple mirror in the shop.

She likes the way the barber Sellatamby wraps her in a cape to protect her clothes from the hair as it falls down when it is cut. He talks to her as he twists her hair little by little, taking it between his fingers as he cuts it. She looks at the pictures of the gods and goddesses surrounding the table and enjoys his reaction when it is all over.

She is disappointed when Sellatamby returns to India and he was replaced by his brother-in-law Murugan. When he finishes he asked her whether she liked the way he had cut her hair. This made her feel important because Sellatamby had never done that.

The story goes on. Her mother does not like it and they go to a new place 'The Ladies' hair-dressing establishment where she goes with her sister in a rickshaw, and their mother.

Two girls wearing aprons cut their hair. They smiled and set them at ease, but they spoke in whispers as the outside noises were cut off by the, glass panelled door. The girl was gentle and cut her hair quickly, and she was very pleased with her new hair-style.

Morning Walk

This is a very different story that is a tender comment on the cripple in his wheel chair, who looks forward to meeting a girl he is fond of.

The writer meets various interesting people in the course of her walk... joggers, white-collar officers, schoolchildren who buy breakfast or snacks, groups of ladies walking leisurely.

But it is the cripple who captures her attention, as his sarong hides his disability while he waits for the young woman to walk beside him as he drops her at her place of work.

They are friendly but she wonders if hers is a compassionate interest while he seems to be in love.

Life goes on. Then suddenly one day there seems to be a lot of activity in the centre of the road where there has been an impact and the boy has been thrown a few feet away. He is senseless, covered in his own blood. His sarong is in disarray starkly exposing his disability. He twitches compulsively and goes limp. It is the end.

The taxi driver cannot help talking about the accident he just missed seeing.

She pays his fare and locks herself in as she feels it is her own tragedy as she had got so involved.

And so the world goes on, heedlessly.

Uncle Harry

This is a light-hearted tale about the fickleness of the male in the person of Uncle Harry.

He is married to Marge whom he calls his 'barge' and they have a happy home full of animals, chickens and friends. Every so often he disappears for a couple of months.

Marge waits awhile and then tries to make ends meet by doing some sort of work. The absences are never explained.

One day the narrator meets a young man she feels she has met before. After an assiduous search she finds that he is the spitting image of Uncle Henry. The youth is also called Harold, and that explains Uncle Harry's mysterious disappearances.

Very well written with the surprise ending. Good fun.

A thought provoking story which shows how funerals are like festivals with little concern for the seriousness or sadness of the occasion.

It is the first funeral Varuni was attending in her fourteenth year. The death of her mother's relative Gertie Achchi which left her unmoved.

Varuni had seen Gertie Achchi only a few times, but her mother had decided it was time Varuni came face to face with Death.

So she went more out of curiosity than family loyalty. And her younger brother got her to promise that she would give him a "ball by ball" account of the proceedings on her return.

So she observed discreetly from the corner where she was seated with her mother.

Varuni's initial reaction was surprise as she noticed that the coffin occupied centre stage like a public performance. No one seemed struck with grief although Sita Punchi collapsed when she saw her mother but she recovered fast and sat by as Chief Mourner. The deceases slept peacefully on and she noticed that she was dressed like a bride.

Soon after the funeral the sympathisers were given drinks and invited to a meal. All around people were gossiping. After the last rites the furniture had been re-arranged and it was more like a social occasion.

Varuni noticed the hypocrisy of the occasion which was typical of local funerals.

Varuni felt that she had not only come face to face with death but she had also come face to face with life.

This is typical of what happens everywhere on such occasions.

The Snake

Her parents were of two different religions. Father a Buddhist and mother a Christian. They were brought up in an environment of tolerance, understanding and compromise. They celebrated both Vesak and Christmas.

Father decorated the house for Christmas and Mother illuminated the garden for Vesak.

But there was disagreement about killing animals. Father did not kill even the tiniest insect. Mother did not agree especially if they were dangerous or expendable. She would kill centipedes or cockroaches.

Father did not make an issue of it.

Until the servant Soma found a snake in the girl's bedroom. Screaming with fear she fled from the room.

The snake slid out quietly. But the mother, finding the handsomely coloured viper a most dangerous creature whose sting is fatal, was hysterical with fear. Mother rushed forward with a heavy stick and crushed its head.

Everyone was shocked and saddened to see that once beautiful head so wantonly destroyed.

This is a powerful narration with cumulative details leaving you in suspense till the end.

It is the only story in the book based on a real life experience.

But let me not cavil about the stories. Every one is interesting in its own right with many grades of appeal.

Buy the book and read them all. You won't regret it.